Sticky Beak
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The Skinny
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...life in small Northern towns, working for assholes, boys who refuse to become men, synthetic personalities, anorexic models and their link to emotional scarring, bad marijuana trips, crazies on BC Transit, beer, piece of shit cars, living out of a suitcase paycheck to paycheck, unrequited love, Seinfeld, minimum-wage jobs, broken New Year�s resolutions, and over-limit Visa accounts.
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Whirley-Birds and Curly-Q's Just another lazy day sitting inside our cubicle apartment passing time, but today with a new added twist... Heard of it? I resisted signing up for the longest time... just like I resisted getting a cell phone or succumbing to a regular hygiene schedule (kidding), but now that I'm on it... I just can't get enough! The clincher was when a friend introduced me to Scrabulous. Oh, sweet Mother of God. FINALLY! Someone to play scrabble with me!!! Damian refuses to play because I'm "an English Major". Yeah, well... all you have to do is play a game with me to realize that a university degree in English has absolutely no bearing on a good scrabble game. I'm currently getting my ass kicked by 3 different people: a Pharmacist, a Journalist, and Clint. CLINT for god's sake! If he beats me I will NEVER hear the end of it. I can't say I'm surprised he's kicking my ass... the guy's far more well-read than I am, and combine that with his steel-trap mind and unrelenting dedication to making an ass out of me... there's no way he'll let me win. It just won't happen. So that's my day today. It's currently 2pm and I'm sitting on the couch in my PJ's, no shower, playing on the computer. Just finished a bowl of chocolate ice cream (3 of the 5 food groups, I tell myself), and Damo's at work until 9:30 so I have a good 8 hours before I have to start cleaning this dump up. This day of laziness didn't come cheap, though. I had to piss my boss off in order to plant my ass here on this tattered third-hand couch. I simply told him I wouldn't be working on Tuesday because that would make 2 weeks in a row that I was approaching 50 hours, and since I'm on salary, I just ain't gonna do it. Full Stop. Yeah, I don't think people like it much when their employees tell them the score and call the shots. But to hell with it!! For the amount of hours I've given that place I could be scooping ice cream for a living and make more money. Still, it's better than Bucky's. Ahhhh, Bucky's. I'd almost forgotten about you, my old friend! Only now that I'm training my fourth cashier do I fully grasp why I made such an impression on my Bucky co-workers. It's very simple: the vast majority of employable people out there are completely inept in every single respect. But I won't get started down that path again... it's likely to lead to another rant. I miss silence. I honestly cannot remember the last time I heard total silence - even for a moment. That is, of course, apart from the nights when I just can't take the noise anymore so stick foam plugs in my ears. Even now, it's not rush hour, but there's a constant stream of traffic blasting past our living room window, occasionally broken-up by car horns, ambulance sirens and weed-whackers. It makes me want to crawl under a rock... or curl up into the fetal position and cover my head with pillows. No wonder I've taken to sleeping so much... it's the only way to escape this city. So if I hate it here so much, why not leave... right? Yeah, well. We're trying. With any luck we can break out of here next spring. And I'm homesick, a little. Probably because of my mom's condition and that I just want to be with her to help her in any way or to just let her talk if she needs to. I miss her, and I hate that through all the years of my tortured teens and kip life up to now, she's been there for me and helped me through it all... and now I can't do a goddamned thing to help her. It really fuckin sucks. Should we move to BL? Geezus, never mind what that would do to me... I think Damo would slit his wrists up there after a couple weeks. But at the end of the day, what's more important than family? And around and around we go... |